


Of Nights and Farewells

by barakei



Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: F/M, Insight, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-20 21:03:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2443082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barakei/pseuds/barakei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The same night, two far away and very different places, two farewells pronounced for it was doomed from the start for them to say goodbye too soon to the persons they loved.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seiya&Saori

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Di Notti e di Addii](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2443067) by [barakei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/barakei/pseuds/barakei). 
  * A translation of [Of Night and Farewells](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/122268) by barakei. 



Of nights and farewells.

 

Part one: Seiya and Saori.

 

Sun was falling on Tokyo, in that day of late summer. Sunset spilled itself peacefully, suffusing everywhere over the city. Tokyo never stopped, not even in the most tranquil hours of the day; that comings and goings of cars and existences, like swarming little ants always hard-working, doing no matter what and never tired to, would make of the modern capital a never sleeping but always busy city.  
Tokyo was deaf to its manifold noises.  
Whereas Kido mansion, immersed in the deep wood surrounding it, emerged like a far world of its own. A world set apart, where the loud echoes of the near city would come almost as postponed by space and time. All around the impressive mansion an unnatural quietude wrapped everything up. It felt like there was a gentile touch of light infusing with harmony that atmosphere of calm solitude.  
People ignored it, but it was the Cosmo of a divine maid to evoke that feeling of peace. 

Saori sat at her piano, in the large room which opened on a balcony. From it the twilight slipped in gently, softening the austere look of the inside. A light breeze blowing from outside was slowly moving the white silk curtains.  
The maiden, who had come back from Greece just few days before, began to play instinctively. She played few notes of a sad melody, soon resounding in the air. Her delicate skilful fingers just skimmed the black and white keys, composing a free sound of even pace.  
As the melody carried on, she let her mind go back to what had been her life in the last past months. So many things happened to her: all of a sudden, she had to change from the normal girl she considered herself to be, into the Goddess she really was meant to. She had to pass through so much hurt and troubles, the battle to gain her Sanctuary, her true home; the loss of those faithful youths who had fought for her but also against her. And the very last battle against Poseidon, another dowel, unexpected and painful yet necessary step forwarding her awakening as a Goddess.  
To restore peace in Sanctuary, her true home, to awaken her divine consciousness, was it a price worth for? 

She kept on questioning herself if all the pain and the struggle she had been through, and put through so many lives, was really a sacrifice to be requested from those innocents.  
Yet did she not doubt the importance and deep meaning of the proves which took her to be more aware of her true self. Because, she knew it, all those who had died for her to become the real Goddess she was, had done it in order to make her ready for the very next battle against another God, Hades.  
Athena’s very final enemy.  
There was no time or space for such doubts, though. She frowned as she clearly felt it, the feeble effort of the her ancient seal crackling, unharmed against the strokes of that pure ebony powerful Cosmo. And she was ready, she had to. For all those who had died for her, and the ones who still fought by her side, she had to be prepared for the coming battle against Hades.  
Her fingers on the piano hesitated a long instant, this made it overload the sound of a note that was meant to be very short, instead. The aching crackles of the seal, fading sacred letters on an ancient piece of paper were crumbling because of that dark, impetuous force.  
She did not want to lose that battle, she could not. This would have meant the eternal defeat of humankind, whereof she represented the silent, invisible yet tangible decisive hope.  
She breathed deeply, her fingers slid on the row and the keys vibrated rhythmically as she impressed on them a new shade of faster pace. She started again to play, and as the sound was coming on she let the music flow through her, entering her body from the black and white keys. She paused again, a frown cast a shade on her smooth forehead, Saori’s hands trembled at the awful thought of losing one of them again. Was this a sign she had not wholly awaken as the Goddess? She was ready to sacrifice herself for the love and peace of earth, but to lose another of her warriors, of her friends…  
This time was different.  
She felt it from the bottom of her heart. If there was a possibility to prevent them risking their lives, she would find that way.  
As she stopped in order to regain her nerve, leaning to reach the score, someone opened the grand door of the room, a pair of big brown and too much honest eyes peeked inside, a bit inquiringly. He glimpsed her important silhouette, and remained there to stare for some time silently, from the small chink he himself had opened, then Seiya entered without a noise as not to disturb the musical act the maiden was enjoying.  
Their eyes met and they shared a fleeting glance, just few seconds, then Seiya moved forward and sat down on a comfortable armchair, in the center of the room. He literally sang among the morbid tissue pillows, there he stood in silence, listening to the beautiful music she was still playing.  
Seiya was neither keen nor competent of that kind of music; such a boisterous exuberant character of his, he found himself more at easy with modern rock sonorities. He used to face solitude with the good company of his beloved guitar.  
Seiya, always so joyful and affectionate; sometimes his genuine verve could be mistaken for arrogance. But he was the one the distant stars were watching over, casting upon him their benignant light which would guide his steps till the very end,  
Despite of his young age, Seiya had grown much more mature those past months. So much overbearing and lively he used to be, so invincible and powerful had he felt when he first wore his Pegasus cloth, as much as brave and noble he became afterwards. The tragic proves he faced turned him into a much more mature and conscious youth.  
All for her.  
He was thrown into an arena upon which artificial lights spread their dim glow: those metallic eyes had observed him greedily, plenty of strangers had watched his fights without any scruples as it was just another fake show. There, she forced him to harness the legendary winged horse, stooped and following the mood of hers.  
All for her, the Princess.  
He accepted because of her sister: Seika was his only family left and he suffered the separation from her much more than anything else. The girl, he came to know, disappeared after he had been sent to Greece, and Seiya thought that given to Kido’s influence and means, through Galaxian Wars’ worldwide resonance he would have had more chances to find her. That was the only good reason for him to accept to take part in that disgraceful show.  
At least, he had thought so initially.  
But then, everything changed: a brand-new intimate awareness raised within himself; his spirit as a Saint awoke, his Cosmo recognized faithful companions in the battlefield, brotherly friends. His heart as a Saint revealed to him the boundless love due to his goddess.  
That detestable, spoiled, touchy little girl! Who would have ever known that she would turn into that divine creature, the delicate maid who was hiding in her soul the entire universe. So warm and bright, so huge and including: Athena’s Cosmo, the goddess he would immolate his life to. 

The notes from the piano flew gently through the air, now restored by the evening coolness. They reached the youth straight and implacable. Seiya received them as they were words from an arcane prayer: a whispered chant from his goddess.  
Yet, was it not a prayer dimmed with sorrow, nor was in there any despair. Quite the opposite: it was a silent invocation, filled with hope, the trusting call of her: Athena.  
He had already realized that the bond he felt towards his Goddess went too far the common duty and loyalty expected from a Saint.

An ephemeral limit separates friendship from love. It is vague and invisible like the ocean’s line, which divides - sometimes confusing them- the sky from the sea. That limit is so fleeting and easy to cross that often it confuses feelings and emotions, it melts them up, giving no chance to decode them, or time for discovering them step by step. It is so common for youths to be puzzled by it, so they try everything they can to find more about, minding not the consequences of their acts. After all, isn’t this one of the most charming privilege of their age?  
Yet, neither were Seiya nor Saori simple youths to be struggling with the bewildering discovery of those kind of things.  
Nay, they were so but something else, as well.  
Both Seiya and Saori could not but stare at that limit from a safe distance, even though it was so ephemeral, so terribly captivating; anxious yet completely still, each of them standing on the opposite bank of the river which flew between.  
They weren’t simple youths at all.

Athena, Virgin Goddess and warrior, equally loved her Saints, like a caring mother did with all her children. Athena’s love was the balance that kept the existences of those devoted youths in equilibrium above life and death.  
And Seiya, loyal Saint ready to sacrifice himself for his Goddess, like all the holy warriors nourished his Cosmo of that love. For the rest, for everything that could not be told, everything that could not be expressed in a different way, he contented himself with experiencing brief moments of innocent complicity, like the one he was living right now. He pacified himself with that silent bond established by the latest painful events they had been through; he treasured the true friendship they shared, for it was deeply sealed in the intimate euphony of their Cosmos.  
He did not expect anything else.

The sound ceased, the very last note disappeared slowly among the sturdy strings, hidden within the polished wooden tail of the piano. Saori got up and calmly walked to the large balcony. Seiya followed her, silently. Then, there they stood together, observing the sky getting colored by soft twilight shades.  
Seiya rested his hands on the white painted parapet, a light pleasant breeze was ruffling his hair.  
“So… you’re leaving for Sanctuary, tomorrow.”  
The youth suddenly pointed out, breaking the silence of that late summer’s evening.  
The maiden nodded.  
“Yes, I am. It’s time for Athena to go back home.”  
She said faintly, keeping her eyes firmly up to the sky.  
“It’ll feel so strange, not having you here ‘round Kido’s.”  
Saori lowered her gaze a bit, she contracted her rosy lips forming on her face a sketchy grimace, which could reveal a sort of undisguised sadness.  
Home.  
Home, she repeated that word more than once to herself.  
The place her grandfather took her, when she was just an infant, that was her home. There she grew up. There she collected her memories, as a child and then a girl. There she said goodbye to the man she had loved as a grandfather, in that grand home. She could not but feel a very sharp regret in leaving the house full of bittersweet memories she had lived in as Saori.  
And, even though Athena wished and hurried to go back to Greece, she could feel a sort of melancholy coming from her divine will.  
Nevertheless, she was about to say goodbye to her up to present life.  
Farewell, Kido Saori.  
“And you, Seiya? What are you going to do from now on?”  
She asked, striving for not to reveal to the youth beside her the too human torment she was struggling with. She felt it was something unavoidable, something presaging a crucial changing for her. She turned towards him. Seiya’s profile was still the one of an adolescent, his traits were almost childish. But the look in his eyes, still gazing at the first crepuscular stars of the day, that look was one of a mature holy warrior of Athena. It showed all the suffering he had been through but at the same time it was shining bright of its immortal hope.  
“I’ll start again with Seika’s research. I want to go and trace her steps, from the day she left the orphanage to the moment she was lost nowhere.”  
He firmly admitted his future intention, and Saori noticed the way he clenched his grasp on the white wood, as the painful memory of her lost sister had come to his mind.  
“I am sure you will find her.”  
Saori said to encourage him, and because she really believed that.  
“And when you find her, do not leave her anymore. For no reason in the world.”  
Those words, the maiden had pronounced so warmly to him, caught his attention and Seiya turned his head towards Saori. The maiden’s eyes shone much more brighter than any other far away star. The same eyes which once had looked at him with scorn, challenged him with cruelty, those beautiful eyes she now sweetly laid into his own were not Kido Saori’s dark eyes: the colour of the clear blue sky of Greece had painted of its own intense tint the irises of hers: Glaukopis Athena.  
Seiya smiled, a wide cheerful smile of his.  
“I can’t.”  
He simply said, still looking into her deep blue eyes.  
“When I find my sister, that will be the happiest day of my life.”  
He calmly added, noticing the imperceptible reaction of curiosity appeared upon the maiden’s face.  
“But..” he began to explain, turning towards her with his body, as well, “… I won’t remain with her. Because my life belongs to you, to Athena.”  
Saori did not reply to that veiled confession, coming both from the Saint and the youth’s heart. But Seiya knew what she felt, as he could admire it from those stunning blue painted eyes of hers, which brimmed with emotions, amazement, gratitude, and…  
The next day, Saori would leave for Greece.  
There she would feel home.


	2. Aiolia&Marin

**Characters** : Leo Aiolia, Eagle Marin.

**Rating** : green

**Disclaimer** : Saint Seiya does not belong to me, of course.

_Of nights and farewells_.

 

_Of nights and farewells._

 

 

 

“Are you leaving?”

 

His voice reverberated throughout the ancient pillars of Leo’s shrine. He couldn’t help it as his tone sounded chivvy and astounded for that seemed to him as if she was acting like a little willful girl, one who could not stand the game’s rules any longer.

Yet, Marin, bronze masked maiden, was not a silly little girl. Maybe she could appear a little bit stubborn at times, but not like she was such an inconstant wimp, nor was she such a skittish to let herself surrender to fleeting emotions.

 

“Yes, I am.”

 

She simply stated, voice firm, and already had she taken her way towards Leo’s way-out. Light metal tinkles were matching each step as she moved on. Wrapped around her thin wrist, Marin wore a long chain of fine mesh, from which a bell shaped pendant hung.

Aiolia had already seen that hideous mesh, many a time; he had listened to its identical clinking, many a time. That mesh. That pendant. That sound: Aiolia hated with all his heart what that petty object stood for.

She used to hide it inside the armor’s pectoral she wore during training sessions.

Marin, the silver Saint.

Virgin, like the Goddess Athena.

Devoted to her like the most faithful of her Gold Saints.

And she used to show it only to him, her fellow and more than that, Aiolia.

Restless golden Leo, with such a splintered soul.

Every time the memories of a lost brother, blurred by the gone-by time and a forced separation, almost tarnished by the distance came back to her mind and heart, the maid would take out that pendant, she would make it swing among her long tapered fingers and that just perceivable sound, and those tinkles would immediately restore every bygone memories.

He did not really know anything about him, still Aiolia found himself so deeply jealous of this brother with an unknown face.

Unknown just like the face of his fellow and more than that, Marin.

 

As they crossed Leo’s threshold, the falling sun cast its warm light upon them. The remote star, in its daily death glowed the sky all over the Sanctuary with its colors, alight and suffused at the same time.

The bright red of the fire which was overflowing all over the havens, the same which shone in Marin’s hair; the same which devoured Aiolia’s heart.

The soft indigo, whose reflections scattered upon the expressionless face of the maiden, picturing shadows and charming collision upon the bronze mask she had to wear.

The same indigo which melted and confused itself in the light blue of Aiolia’s sad eyes.

 

 

Aiolia’s existence was marked by this miserable condition. At the very beginning it was an unexpected novelty, one he had been desperately opposed to, but as time went by the young Leo forced himself to accept and live with the void that was growing inside and outside him.

He forced himself to surrender. Nevertheless, this new abandonment left him wrong- foot again. He found himself not ready for it, not even this time had he had the chance to prepare himself for it. He realized he was not able to confront another painful, not wanted separation from someone he loved.

 

“Why now?”

 

He asked, once he had joined the girl. He stayed by her side, silent.

Aiolia kept his eyes staring in a pointless direction, while his poor heart thumped crazy beats inside his chest. And Marin… nobody could have guessed what was that her eyes were watching. Aiolia could not tell, as that hideous mask prevented him to. But maybe, had he seen her face, just a glimpse of it, maybe that would have soothed his frown: her eyelids were narrowed in a thin line, as if her eyes were disturbed by the piercing rays of the sunlight; her beautiful yet unknown features, forever indecipherable, just betrayed the trouble she felt in leaving him; her rosy lips were curled in a contrite line of displeasure. Her expression would have showed him how much it had cost her to have that decision made.

 

The light breeze climbing from the not far away coast, carrying in its wake the sweet warm flavor of the peaceful sea, was strong enough to tickle the bell pendant hanging from her wrist. As if the living breath of a ghost was drawing her to it from nowhere.

Aiolia could hear the unmistakable, yet almost imperceptible clinking of the little bell, which he hated for he knew what that meant: that frail sound was a signal, somewhere in the world, another pendant thoroughly alike hers was resonating in that exact moment, with the same hideous light clinking, calling for her distant sister.

To take her away from him.

 

“I must go and find him.”

 

She spoke with a sweet voice, even though it was filtered through the inexpressive metal of the mask.

It sounded sweet and driven.

He had never heard her speak so sure and driven as she did in that moment.

 

“My brother needs me, as I need him.”

 

 

That simple word made Aiolia shiver. His soul shivered.

 

 

He couldn’t find it in himself to say that word. Even though the memory of Aiolos was no longer to be blamed, and the Sagittarius Saint was again the noble warrior his oldest memories treasured him to be.

Indeed, Aiolia understood what a brotherly need meant. He more than anybody else understood how fragile and yet deep strong the invisible connection between brothers is.

But Marin’s words had just stressed a simple yet painful fact: she could hope. Marin could still hope to go and search for her brother. Maybe she would find him, hold him again, never let him go. Marin’s words had just dragged along his never stifled melancholy: he was used to live with that, the wretched feeling of loneliness which shaded the once bright light of his eyes.

Aiolia would have never had his brother back.

He simply could not hope.

But he didn’t feel any resent for that. Or maybe did he envy the Silver maiden just a little bit?

He raised his head, pointed his eyes up to the sky avoiding Marin’s bronze hidden face. His gaze was caught by the not so far sundial. The twelve fires were off, but the feeble sunbeams, last sparkles of light for that day, by illuminating the massive stone clock were creating a fake reflection which seemed to ignite the twelve segments.

An ominous shudder ran through his spine: the sundial lit up only in few occasion. Only when it was needed to warn Sanctuary of extreme urgency, as some weeks before when a girl from Tokyo had been lying at the bottom of the ancient stairway, in deathly danger for her life. Back then, the twelve blue fires had been counting down the remaining hours of the Goddess’ life; the hours left to the five bronze children for them to save her. And now, for that strange game of final reflected lights the sundial seemed to beat the time of another crucial test.

 

The one who is forced by circumstances to a life full of suffering and sorrow becomes someone whose sensitivity is something simple and true. The one who has the most important person of their life taken away from them, engulfed with all their memories by the darkest of night; the one who experiences this awful unbearable pain, the pain of loss and forced separation, inevitably becomes some unselfish and sympathetic person.

Aiolia was like that.

And Marin was the only human presence able to quiet the agony of his forced solitude.

Only Marin, with her discrete and silent presence.

Only Marin had never blamed him with the sin of his blood.

So, even if Aiolia deeply wished to ask her to stay by his side, he’d rather decided to hold back how he felt.

Letting her go meant to save her.

Because the ebony Cosmos raising from the deep hidden underworld, the glorious ebony Cosmos which belonged to Hades was awakening, and with him the dark army that would soon declare war against Sanctuary.

Aiolia sighed, a heavy nervous breath, more because of so many hard thoughts to ponder in such a short time than for any other reason. He knew he had the chance to do what he couldn’t before. He wouldn’t have allowed his jealousy, his feelings, and the fear to be alone again to draw Marin in the mortal whirlpool of the incoming battle which they would never survive to.

He, for sure, would never survive.

 

Aiolia turned towards the maiden, who was still gazing in the void before her, and smiled. A sweet, kind smile grew upon his lips, which brightened the perpetually sulky expression he used to wear. And it lit up his beautiful blue eyes that just for the shortest instant gave up their severity, the stiff sadness that always wrapped them up. His smile was one that disclosed a desire, pure and innocent, a poignant yearning, always contained and never exceeded.

 

“I am sure you will find him.”

 

He said, infusing his voice with all that precious, rare fondness Marin so well knew.

 

“And when you find him, do not leave him anymore. For no reason in the world.”

 

Marin’s face was hidden behind that hideous mask, and Aiolia could not see the astonishment that took possession of her. Nor could he see the bittersweet drops welling up in her colorless eyes. But he thoroughly could feel the spontaneous vibration born deep inside the maiden’s Cosmos. Immediately, he recognized it: that was the same quiver he always would feel filling his fellow’s aura when he smiled at her. In that way as rare as unique as awfully fond that was able to strike Marin’s soul like a particular intense and vivid note.

Aiolia would have given anything to just can see, for just once, for just a necessarily brief instant stolen from the eternal infinity of time and that’s why perfect; the face he so loved even if he hadn’t ever seen her.

Marin would have given anything to just can grant herself a tiny innocent transgression such as to show a simple smile to the youth beside her. But they wouldn’t. Not even now that the end was approaching inexorable; not even now that they both knew, and felt, they were to say farewell forever.

 

Above them, the sky began t fill with stars, little sparkling points shedding their yet dim light down below themselves. The air, now cooling by the restoring sunset and by the sweet salty breeze rising up from the sea, was flavored with tenderness.

Marin turned towards Aiolia, then she lifted soft and slowly her hand, and the bell pendant swung back on her arm with its usual tinkling but that now, who knows why, it reached Aiolia with a more than pleasing tonality.

They were one in front of the other, very few inches apart.

With her hand lifted in midair, Marin covered the eyes of the young Leo. At the soft, fresh touch of that trembling hand, Aiolia shut his eyelids and held his breath.

With her free hand, Marin took off her bronze mask. And then Aiolia felt it: her lips leaned upon his, light and tender, a delicate scent and the warm breath of hers to tickle his skin.

“Wait for me, Aiolia…”

Whispered Marin, Silver maiden, a brand-new quiver in her voice, with her lips still lingering upon her fellow’s and more than that, before she covered her face again with that cold hideous mask; the exact opposite of what was the warm enamored expression on her face.

But Aiolia kept his eyes shut even after Marin’s hand had left his face, in a rigorous compliance of the Sanctuary’s laws; even if he so badly wanted to impress, first and probably last time already, that image deep inside his soul.

To carve her deep within his heart, where nobody and anything would have torn it off.

Not even death.

When he opened his eyes again, the maiden’s face was once again hidden by the bronze of the mask.

Marin’s face remained unknown for that night, as always.


End file.
